


All Eyes on Mine

by equalsMCsquare



Category: America's Next Top Model, America's Next Top Model RPF, RPF - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Models, RPF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:04:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equalsMCsquare/pseuds/equalsMCsquare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The nations most beautiful ladies in a house together, and attraction is basically inevitable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Eyes on Mine

**Author's Note:**

> You could probably enjoy this fic even if you don't know the characters.  
> Understanding the way ANTM works is probably helpful though.

I’ve always wondered how guys can date a model. Shouldn’t men want their girls to be theirs and theirs only? When you put a girl on set, or on stage, and everyone’s eyes are on her, it’s like she suddenly belongs to all of them, and she isn’t yours alone anymore.  
I had no idea, until I met Analeigh.

**

If fourth was her place, then third was mine. I couldn’t stay in the competition after Marjorie was sent home. My reason to stay, my motivation, was back in America; what was I doing in Amsterdam?  
  
We talked about everything, holding each other, keeping each other sane. Someone who didn’t fear friendship in that hostile environment was invaluable to me, and I guess I just felt like something was missing when I didn’t have that anymore.

**

She’s so much more than…anything you might possibly think. No one can look at her, and understand what goes on behind her big, blue eyes, the way I can. Tyra might think she can, but the her depth was saved for my eyes only. They may see a beautiful woman; I see a perfect one.

**

The week she was sent home, on the night the boys came over, that was when I knew. A strange way to recognize it, in it’s drunken, mentally breaking down state, but maybe that makes the most sense of all. They kept asking me why I felt like she was my responsibility, why I felt the need to take care of her, keep her safe. Words failed me that night; I had no idea. I couldn’t express that she was mine, and I was hers, and I had no choice but to keep her safe. I was baffled that they didn’t understand it.

**

The first time I saw her, I knew. I knew before I knew that I knew. I felt it immediately, but it took me so long to recognize it. If only I hadn’t wasted so much time pretending I didn’t notice, when I actually had opportunity.

I wanted her to know she wanted me. Is that so wrong or so unheard of? Or maybe I wanted to know that she wanted me at all. Or maybe I was getting drunk for the sake of forgetting it all, and hoping my stupor would tilt the world back on its correct axis. Whatever it was, that night should have ended in regret and me making a fool of myself, but I cannot make myself regret Analeigh’s concern for me.

**

If I had won, it would have been harder to justify my grief at being separated from her. As it is, I’m glad I didn’t go further in the competition than one week after her, as it would have made reconnection so much harder. This way, there’s no survivor’s guilt, no resentment boiling beneath the surface.  
  
But I still haven’t talked to her since we left Europe.

**

Yesterday, Analeigh called me.


End file.
